


our lips raw with love

by mrs_theirin



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Mage Hawke (Dragon Age), Not Canon Compliant, Purple Hawke (Dragon Age), Reunions, Separations, The Hanged Man (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29072508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_theirin/pseuds/mrs_theirin
Summary: The four best kisses Eden Hawke and Varric Tethras have shared, in order of which they happened.
Relationships: Female Hawke/Varric Tethras, Hawke/Varric Tethras
Comments: 17
Kudos: 20





	our lips raw with love

**Author's Note:**

> so Imaginary_Bomb sent me an ask about what eden's most memorable kiss was and i couldn't decide so i picked 4, and then i made a fic based off of it LMAO this is taking the place of chapter 9 of trthtay (if you don't read that, please do! i'm having so much fun with it, just a momentary lapse of motivation) i hope you guys enjoy <3

_I._

The party swam in Eden’s memory, accompanied by Varric’s song, as she laughed at his story, wobbling in her chair. Her stomach was full of bread and water, and her heart was warm and buzzing. “Why wasn’t I ever aware that the Hanged Man has such excellent bread?” she asked.

“We only ever order swill, Hawke,” Varric responded. “When was the last time you remember ordering _food_ from here?”

“Good point,” she murmured, popping another piece of buttered bread in her mouth. The butter melted on her tongue, filling her mouth with a warm, welcoming taste as the soft bread slid down her throat. She groaned happily. 

“Enjoyed the party, I hope?” Eden turned, watching Varric flip through a book on the table, a lump making its way down his throat. 

She laughed. “Oh, Varric, you know there’s nothing I love more than a crowd of people fawning over me. The only way you could’ve done better if there was a shining light focused on me at all times.”

He looked up at that, a knowing grin on his face. “The song wasn’t enough?”

_I love you._

Oh, she knew it for a while. She just didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that she was in love with her closest friend and partner. The possibility of a romance was too good to be true, besides, Varric was involved, or at least she suspected he was involved. He didn’t talk about Bianca, and she didn’t want to hear about her. It was impossible for them to be together, which is why Eden was surprised as two words came spilling out of her mouth, like they couldn’t possibly be contained any longer. 

“Kiss me.”

Varric closed his book, slowly, cautiously, almost as if he was too afraid to move. His expression was unreadable, and the room was deadly silent, practically stabbing Eden in the chest with the tension. Finally, a ghost of a smile danced across his lips. “How very damsel-in-distress of you,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I arrange all of this for you, and yet _I_ still have to kiss _you?_ Don’t you think you should kiss m—”

Eden stood abruptly, pushing the table out of the way so she could grab him forcefully by his shirt and pull him into her. Their lips collided, harsh at first, then Varric placed a hand on her face and she sank to the floor, melting under his touch. 

Maker’s _breath,_ did his lips feel perfect on hers. 

She hadn’t realized how tightly wound she had been recently until Varric’s lips on hers completely unraveled her. She spilled into him, like a gentle waterfall into a shimmering pond, like ink onto paper, like music into hearts. He held her closer and it was like the world was holding its breath, eager to hold onto this moment, to make sure it didn’t miss any second of their kiss, as if quills and pages were connecting themselves, writing their story before Varric had the chance to. 

“I love you,” she murmured into his mouth as they separated, her body leaning with his, as if she was being tugged along by a string connected to their lips. 

“Oh, Eden,” he said, and the sound of her given name in the rumbly tone of his voice sent shivers down her spine. “Took you long enough.”

A shaky laugh fell from her lips as she smacked him in the arm. “How dare you. How about you, huh? Tease.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I knew. But a writer doesn’t reveal the ending before the build-up.” 

“You’re an idiot,” she said, rolling her eyes. 

“Does an idiot get another kiss?”

Her playful laugh bubbled in her chest, filling her entire body with warmth. The taste of ale and butter was quickly fading from her lips, and she was eager to reapply the taste. His taste. She was eager to be closer to that familiar scent of ink, oil, and vanilla. She placed her hand on his chest, running her fingers through the hair before wrapping her arms around his neck, leaning into his warmth again before whispering— 

“Why don’t you find out?”

_II._

The time of pretending nothing had happened had passed. Eden Hawke had to leave Kirkwall, otherwise the dogs would be after her scent. Her black hair was up in a rushed bun, and she grimaced half of a smile as she hurried over to Varric, a satchel slung over her shoulder. She seemed to be holding her breath.

“I don’t know when I’ll see you again,” she said, her voice softer than he’d ever heard it.

He offered her an easy smile. “Don’t worry, Quill. You’ll be able to bask in my chest hair again in no time.”

“Oh, Maker, don’t remind me. How will I survive without your glorious chest hair?” 

Varric looked up at her, attempting to ignore the pain growing in his chest. Her eyes were glued on him, like if she looked away, he’d disappear. He wasn’t entirely sure that wasn’t true. He was scared to look away himself, as if she would crumble away like old parchment the minute he averted his eyes. 

“I’ll make sure to rub my letters all over my chest before I send them to you.”

Varric flinched as a choked sob escaped from Eden’s throat, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. It was much easier to look away now, as he couldn’t bear to witness the tears welling up in her eyes, her usual grin nowhere to be found. He closed his eyes as he felt her move closer, her shaky breaths bouncing around in his ears like a Chantry bell. 

“Varric Tethras,” she said, her voice low and trembling.

His heart felt heavy as she placed her hands on his face, guiding him to look up at her. Andraste’s ass, she was beautiful. Her fingers stung his skin, the familiar chill of her hands setting on his face, and for once he didn’t mind. He would gladly freeze forever if it meant Eden Hawke was holding him. 

“I will be thinking about you every day I’m gone.”

“I kn—”

“I’m not done,” she said. His mouth shut. “I would rather spend eternity in the Gallows than be apart from you.” She sucked in a shallow breath. “I’m sorry it’s come to this.”

“Hawke, it’s not your fault.”

She grimaced as if the words had stabbed her, and continued, pulling away from him. “Nevertheless...take care of Merrill for me, okay? If any hair on that sweet little head of hers is harmed, I’ll be coming after you, Serah Tethras.” 

She had clearly intended it to be a playful threat, but her words were too laced with pain and longing to be received as a joke. Varric forced a painfully fake smile on his face as he grabbed her hands and kissed them. “I’m not sure if I can promise Daisy won’t be harmed. You know how she is.” 

“I do,” she replied, her voice cracking. Varric winced. 

It was near impossible to see Eden like this. He’d seen her miserable before, at her very worst, completely downtrodden and bed-ridden, but nothing like this. It was too much to know her pain was about him. _For_ him. It was self-centered for him to pretend she was only upset about leaving him, but as he held her hands, as unnoticed tears rolled down her cheeks, as he watched her throat bob as she struggled to swallow, he couldn’t help but feel a deep, heavy weight in his chest. 

“She’s going to be okay,” he added, attempting to lighten the load. 

“I know.” A long pause followed. “It’s me you’ll have to worry about.”

“Eden…”

His words caught in his throat as she leaned down and kissed him, soft at first, but quickly more desperate. As if she was trying to absorb him. Like if she kissed him hard enough, he’d melt into her and she could flee Kirkwall and take him with her, the two of them able to live in seclusion until they were old and gray and the words “Champion of Kirkwall” were just a speck in their faded memories. Varric could practically smell the salt of the sea, and he could taste the warmth of their fresh baked bread, and he could hear the distant sounds of laughter coming from children. Their children? He wondered if— 

The dreams were quickly ripped away along with Eden’s lips, and he sobered. He wasn’t on some distant shore, his head on Eden’s shoulder, supper cooking in the oven. He was on Kirkwall’s docks, holding the love of his life, telling her to leave, and he was hating every second of it. Varric would gladly tell all of Thedas to fuck off if Eden told him he should, if she threw her bag down and confessed she was staying, but he knew it wasn’t a possibility. They both knew. 

“I love you, Varric Tethras,” she said, and it felt like a sword through the chest. 

“I love you too, Hawke.”

“Varric…”

“Eden,” he choked out, his throat tight. “I love you, Eden.”

“Sister,” Bethany warned from her spot in the distance, gesturing to Isabela’s ship. She made eye contact with Varric and gave him a sympathetic smile, not daring to come any closer, quickly shifting her gaze away. They had already said their goodbyes. Varric believed she would crumble into a million pieces if she spoke to him any longer.

He was going to miss Sunshine. 

“That’s more like it,” Eden whispered, giving him a quick kiss that ended far too quickly. He choked back a sob as she leaned in for another one, almost as if she was trying to convince herself “just one more, just one more,” and couldn’t resist moving back in for another one. Eventually, she dropped to her knees, enveloping him in a hug, and she squeezed him so tight he was sure she was going to break his ribs.

Funnily enough, he didn’t care.

“Don’t be too different without me,” he murmured into her neck.

She offered him a strangled laugh. “How could I ever not be myself?”

At this, she quickly pulled away, rushing down the docks to slide her arm into Bethany’s, and didn’t look back. Varric watched her hug Isabela, who waved solemnly at him before ordering her crew to set sail. Eden disappeared below deck.

Varric felt hollow. 

After all, how else are you supposed to feel when you give a woman your heart and she takes off with it?

_III._

Varric paced across the battlements, wringing his hands. The Seeker was going to kill him for this decision. Pissing off Cassandra was one of his favorite pastimes, but she was going to string him up by his ankles once the news reached her ears. Good. He’d rather face her wrath than go one more second without seeing Eden Hawke. 

He couldn’t understand why he was so nervous. It was Eden. She wasn’t going to shove him over the side of the stone walls, screaming about how he didn’t write enough letters.

Was she? 

He groaned, pinching his nose. There was nothing to worry about. Eden would arrive, and she would smile with her dazzling smile, and she would look at him with her beautiful, blue eyes, and her hair would fall over her shoulders as she— 

“Is that my dwarf or is it a dwarven tradition to pace around terrified to see their lover again?”

He froze in his tracks, his usual grin having trouble returning to his face. He looked up with fear in his eyes, and there she was, raising an eyebrow as she gazed down at him, her lips pulled into a grin. Her arms were crossed and her stance was teasing, her hip out. “Eden,” he breathed out. 

“Honestly, if I knew you were going to be a wreck over seeing me again, I would’ve worn something nicer.”

She was wearing a long brown coat that was tied at her chest, showing her long sleeved tunic and tight pants, followed by strong boots. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail that danced in the cool wind, and her expression softened as the fear in his eyes didn’t stray. “Eden,” he repeated. 

“Varric,” she said slowly. 

“The Inquisitor is on her way up.”

“I can’t wait.”

They stared at each other for a moment, and Varric was frustrated that his feet seemed to be rooted in place. It was just Eden. What was happening? He was never like this before, not even Bianca could affect him like this, and she was so close and he just wanted to hold her and— 

“Varric,” she said, her voice warm. “You do know it’s just me, right?”

He scoffed, the air stolen from his lungs. “‘Just you.’ That’s the problem.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Problem?”

“Miracle,” he quickly responded, still glued to the stone of the battlements. “The impossible. The long-awaited. The—”

She approached him, catching him off-guard, and slid down to her knees, gently placing her hands on his face. He closed his eyes, his heart aching. How he missed the feel of her skin. He heard her laugh softly under her breath. “I missed you too, Varric.”

“You’re not allowed to leave again,” he muttered before she kissed him, officially taking all of his breath away. 

Kissing Eden was like stepping onto the surface after spending his whole life in Orzammar, the sun shining down on him, something he had gone so long without that he feared being burned. It was like falling, uncertain of a safety net and scared of the plunge down, and breathing a sigh of relief when he remembered that this was Eden. She would always catch him, and she would never burn him. Nothing had changed. 

“I won’t,” she said as she pulled away. “Not even the Maker Himself can stop me from being with you.”

Varric chuckled lightly. “You know He’ll take that as a challenge?”

“I’m sure He will. But nothing can be as bad as being without you again. I missed you so much.”

Her blue eyes shimmered as he placed a hand on her face. “I missed you too, Quill. More than you could ever know.”

She smiled, and something in his chest tugged at his heart. He had almost forgotten the way her red lips parted when she smiled, the way the scar on her lip danced, the way her eyes crinkled in a way he knew she must’ve picked up from Malcolm. “Don’t get all sappy on me,” she joked, standing up and wiping herself off.

He caught a glimpse of pale blonde hair making its way up the battlements. “The Inquisitor’s on her way,” he said plainly. 

“Ooh!” Eden exclaimed, raising her hands in excitement. “What if I moved into that building there so when she gets over here, I can walk out dramatically as you introduce us?”

She was already off before he could say anything, and he shook his head, grinning when he thought about how excited Ashariani would be to meet her. She waved politely as she approached and Varric relaxed. Everything was going to be okay.

_IV._

Everything was definitely not okay. 

Eden barely left Varric’s room. It had been almost 2 weeks since her moronic, infuriating, _precious_ brother had shoved her through a Fade rift, efficiently sacrificing himself to save her, facing off against a Nightmare demon by himself. It was the most selfless thing Carver had ever done for her, and she felt empty.

She had never wanted that to happen.

Grief-stricken, she stayed in Varric’s room, away from prying eyes. She had already made enough of a scene at Adamant. Screaming her brother's name, bloodied and wounded, desperately pressing her hands into the stone in hopes she could reach through it and pull Carver back out again. And it was her fault. She involved Carver. She got him killed. 

She startled as a soft knock sounded at the door, and her mood brightened slightly at the sight of Varric. “Hey Quill,” he said, his voice heavy. “You need to come with me.”

“Varric,” she breathed out, a half-chuckle, half-sigh. “I’m not exactly ready for the public to—”

“I promise you’ll want to see this.”

They stared at each other for a moment before she sighed heavily. “Fine. But I’m not wearing any makeup.”

He chuckled, giving her a kiss as she got up. “You’re perfect either way, Hawke.”

The two of them walked in silence. Eden tried (and failed) not to notice the Skyhold inhabitants staring at her, their quick whispers barely able to be heard, though it was clear they were talking about her. The words “Fade”, “Brother”, and “Sad” were said far too many times for her to be comfortable, and Eden was grateful when they pushed through the doors. The sun welcomed her with a great warmth that washed over her. 

They made their way down the steps, her eyes on the ground, but as her feet touched the dirt, someone cleared their throat and she froze. Could it be...? No, the thought was too painful, too hopeful, too— 

“Sister,” Carver said, and she looked up. 

There he was, standing before them, unharmed—albeit slightly bruised and cut up—with an awkward smile on his face as he scratched the back of his head, almost like he was saying, “Surprise?” Eden’s breath was stolen in a moment. She turned to Varric, and he nodded his head. She couldn’t stop the tears from spilling out of her eyes as she slowly approached Carver, placing her hands cautiously on his firm shoulders. He winced.

“Carver?” she whispered.

He nodded. “It’s me, Sister.” 

A long moment of silence passed before she took her right hand off of his shoulder and punched him square in the chest. He wheezed, pulling back. “What was that for?” he asked incredulously.

“That,” she said, pointing an accusatory finger at him as she spoke, “was for sacrificing yourself like an idiot. And this,” she added, tugging him forward into a tight hug, “is for finding your way back.”

Her chest bubbled as Carver hugged her back, wrapping his strong arms around her, almost cracking her back. She didn’t care. She had her little brother back. “I missed you too,” he said.

She fought the urge to knee him in the groin. “Never do that again,” she hissed, burying her face in his neck. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sister,” he said sarcastically. “I promise to never end up in the physical Fade again and—”

This time she did not resist the urge to knee him, and he hopped away before she could inflict any real damage, groaning. “You’re lucky I love you,” she snapped, though she couldn’t stop the smile that was growing on her face.

Her little brother was back. Her little brother was _alive._

“Junior said Daisy grabbed him from the Fade, can you believe that?” Varric added, stepping up to lightly punch Carver in the arm.

Eden blinked. “I suppose I can believe that.”

Carver spread his arms, putting his body on display. “Healed me pretty well, too. Merrill’s amazing.”

“Don’t say that,” Eden laughed. “That crush she had on you might come back.”

He shrugged, grinning. “Probably the least of my worries.”

Eden pulled him into another tight hug, kissing him on the cheek when they pulled away, and quickly turned to Varric. He only had a moment to react before Eden was grabbing his collar and pulling him into her. Her happiness practically burst in her chest as she kissed him, as if her life depended on his lips on hers. He lightly tugged her down to his level, and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him so tightly she was momentarily afraid she would crush him. 

Maker’s breath, it felt good to kiss him in the open. 

Years of hiding, years of subtle hints, years of avoiding being openly romantic in public had culminated to this moment; the moment when she could get on her knees in the middle of Skyhold and kiss her love, her life, her _husband._ The kiss was an innocent, happy, joyous kiss, and when they pulled away, she touched her forehead to his and breathed out what would be the talk of Skyhold for the next month, the words rushing out as if she could no longer contain them, as if they had been waiting as long as she had to be spoken:

“Let’s get married!”


End file.
